Cody’s Caliginous Chronicle
by Flash Foreward
Summary: Cody's all grown up, making his own way in the world. He tells the story of who he is, of all he learned from his step-father, Dexter Morgan. This is Cody's dark story, the tale of him and his Dark Passenger.


**A/N:** More book-verse than TV-verse...enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dexter 

**Cody's Caliginous Chronicle **

The twilight sky was a deep navy blue, canvassed with twinkling stars and meandering clouds, but the oblivious people who passed by my car took no notice of the beauty in the darkness. They kept their focus straight ahead as the walked briskly down the sidewalk towards the semi-lit street across from them. I smirked at the sight, always intrigued by how uncomfortable people became in the darkness because it was something I would never understand. 

I lived for the darkness. The nightfall that marked my time, time to hunt. Time to play. I was not, however, what they were running from. I am discreet, I am careful. I follow the laws, the rules I've been given to keep from being caught. No matter how hard my Dark Passenger fights, I will always obey the rules. 

My step-father taught them to me, the rules. His foster-father taught them to him. We call them Harry's Laws and we've both been trained to follow them to the letter. Not that following them makes us better people, it simply keeps us under the radar and allows us to appease our Dark Passengers. 

Well, it allows me to, anyway. My step-father died not too long ago. He was caught in the crossfire at a crime scene, shot in the chest as he was photographing blood splatter. A sad way to go for such a man…although very few knew his true nature. Even my mother was oblivious to his darkness. 

Just like the people on the street are oblivious to the darkness now. 

I watched them disappear into shadows and houses, still unmoving behind the wheel of my car, my eyes locked on a house on the corner. Its windows were light, sending eerie shadows dancing on the sidewalk before it. I was waiting for those lights to go out, for the darkness to invade the home, and for the door to open. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard, the green-lit numbers told me I didn't have long to wait. 

My Passenger was growing antsy as the seconds dragged on, but it was simple enough to subdue it. I'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, watching this one carefully, learning all there was to know about him, and a few more moments waiting would make no difference; to me or to my Passenger. 

As I sat there, I thought back on how all of this began, with a dog. A tiny dog that would not stop barking. It bothered mom, so my sister, Astor, and I decided to take care of it. She insisted that I do the work, _boys do such things_, she'd said. I did not argue, I had no desire to. Finally, here was a chance to let whatever was inside me take control. 

That moment when the tip of the knife slipped casually into the little animal was one I would never forget. 

Then Dexter found out. Dexter Morgan, my soon to be step-father. At the time, my mother was only engaged to him, but he was more of a father to me than my real father, Paul, had ever been. I still missed Paul, still wished he could be there, but the longing for him was nothing more than a biological need for the man who was a part of me. It was Dexter who took care of us, Dexter who loved us. 

Or, I thought it was love, anyway. In reality, we were his mask. An excuse, a cover up; we were a way for him to keep appeasing his Dark Passenger. When I found out the truth, when he told me that he had been like me when he was young, I accepted my task gladly. I was so young, but something in me understood. Part of me connected with part of him and he did not need to explain. 

And he taught me how to do it, all of it. He taught me how to be free of evidence; he taught me how to never be suspected. _Always go for criminals,_ he said. _People who've flown under the radar in the legal system, they're the ones you want._ I'd asked why, but all he'd said was, _They will not be missed. As much. _

That was the first rule, the most important. The rest were precautions. Measures to take to ensure whatever evidence existed would never be found. 

The light went out and I was back in reality. I slipped from my car, shutting the door as quietly as I could before walking purposefully across the street to the house. The door was about to swing open when I reached it, and as the house's inhabitant began to push it forward my hand came up to stop it. I held it steady, open just enough for the man inside to peer out. 

But for the rules we share, I am nothing like my step-father. 

"Hello," I said, calmly. "May I use your telephone?" 

Ever the gentleman. 

"Oh, well, I was just on my way out…" 

"Yours was the only house with the light on." 

I could see his pulse as it pressed into his neck and it was all I could do to restrain my Passenger. The Darkness struggled against my calm, collected exterior. The monster wanted to get out. 

"Well, I suppose…," he trailed off and stepped aside, letting me in. I made sure to press him further into the front hall as I entered, pulling the door closed behind me. I locked it, the faint click seemed to echo through the silence. His eyes grew wide as he stared up at me. 

Before he could scream or question, the needle was in his neck and he had fallen into a blissful sleep. 

I wished that I could join him. 

I laid him out on his sofa before setting to work. I'd been preparing for this moment for weeks, leaving my supplies in unobtrusive places around the outside of the house; and now I went back and collected them and I slowly prepared the house for tonight's debacle. 

When I was through, the entire living room was covered in plastic, walls, ceiling, furniture, and floor. The doors that led to the room were closed and blocked and my prey lay silent in the center of the room. 

I had wrapped myself in a plastic poncho, and I stood to the side waiting for the man to wake. I watched his form as it breathed deeply, the signs of forced slumber. Slowly, he began to stir. First he lifted an arm to his forehead, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, then he rose to a sitting position and his eyes fell on me. 

I watched the certainty that he had dreamed me up fade from his eyes, doing nothing to suppress the carnal grin that I knew was on my face. The game was about to begin, the part of this whole ritual that separated me from my step-father, that made me a different monster than he was. 

Because for me, it's about the fight. That rush of primitive courage that my victims get right towards the end. The adrenaline that makes them run towards me instead of away because there is no other option. That moment, that reaction, is exactly what the Dark Passenger craves. 

And as he rushed towards me, tonight's prey, I finally felt alive. I gripped the knife tightly, tapping my fingers lightly on the handle as he neared me, a guttural howl escaping his lips. And then he was upon me, his body pushing against me, fighting and fighting, and he thought he was doing well. 

But this is my game. 

We play by my rules. 

I plunged the knife into him, in his side. He cringed away from me as I twisted and he fell to the ground. I slipped the weapon from his body and knelt beside him. I pointed to the wall before him, previously hidden by my body. It was covered in computer print outs of Newspaper Articles and police reports. 

All of his deeds displayed for him to see. The widening of his eyes was all I needed to know I was right. 

"I didn't," he began, but I cut him off with a knife to his throat. I didn't say anything, I never do, but he nodded in answer to my unasked statement and I let a grim smile play on my lips. 

I traced his throat with the tip of my blade and watched him squirm, loving the sight of the blood seeping from between his fingers as he clutched his side. My smile grew as I moved the knife down to his chest and pressed lightly against it, cutting through fabric and flesh. He clenched his teeth, but as I pulled the blade across his body he could not hold back his screams. 

After the first slice, I knew it wouldn't be long until the strength and life were gone from him, but I still took as much time as I could. I am not merciful, this is my art. And when I was finished, when he was gone, I admired the pool surrounding him before I began my clean up. 

It was the blood, you see. Ever since that first fishing trip with Dexter it had always been the blood. Dexter hated the blood, he liked to be clean and precise, but I need the blood. He knew that, that's why he taught me Harry's Laws. That's why I have so much plastic and so many garbage bags. That's why Dexter left me his boat. That's why I am still safe. 

I harbor no illusions. I know one day I will be suspect, one day I will be found, but for now Harry's Laws keep me under the radar. These are the thoughts that flow through my mind as I load my garbage into the trunk of my car and as I drive to the marina to dispose of my work, these are the things I think when my Dark Passenger is appeased, when he is willing to leave me be. 

Until next time.


End file.
